La Coruna
by V.Valentine
Summary: You never know who you're going to run into at night...


La Coruna, Spain – The Spanish Rose Tavern

Raucous laughter fills the night air. The sound of merriment joins the stars in filling the sky. Francisco was getting married tomorrow.

With freshly refilled glasses, Francisco raised his up for another toast with his best companion, before downing a healthy amount of some liquor referred to as the "Black Devil". When the drinking was done and the call for more was had, the process repeated itself.

"Joder, ya estoy aburrido! Esta es mi despedida de soltero! Deberíamos tener la música!" Francisco commanded as the bartender called off to another room.

"Ai, mover el culo! Necesitamos que usted comience a jugar, imbécil!" Pablo, the tender, commanded to whoever was in the room, which slowly came walking out of the said room with guitar in hand. A beautiful, polished wooden guitar, held in his arms like if it were his best girl. His long raven hair hung over his face, almost down to the collar of his solid black clothes, a simple long sleeved and form fitting shirt with loose pants.

With a curt nod, he started to play. A soft, Latin inspired tune that traditionally was played at weddings. A show of good fortune to the happy couple now newly joined together.

With the glasses refreshed once again, Francisco's best friend Martine patted him on the back. "Carmen es una buena mujer! Vas a tener muchos años felices juntos!" He said with a small laugh, before taking another drink. "Mucho mejor que la musaraña que saliste. ¿Qué pasó con ella?" Martine asked as Francisco paled just ever so slightly.

"Oh ... eh ... bueno, las cosas no salen bien, obviamente. Además, Carmen es una mujer mucho mejor que Ariel." Francisco said reassuringly as Martine grinned. Francisco just happened to notice the hands of the guitar player, his right hand strumming away with meticulous precision…

And the left hand covered in a golden claw.

"Lo que el ... Pablo, ¿quién demonios es este tipo?" Francisco had just enough time to ask, before the guitar player turned and smashed it over Martine's head. In a storm of debris and splinters, something metallic caught the gleam of the light in the room, as it flipped end over end in the air, before slipping into its master hand expertly.

Francisco looked at it in horror. He had never seen a tri-barreled revolver before.

"Carmen está muerta." His voice corrected, two shots firing and rang out into the night, one into Pablo and Martine with incredible accuracy before the gun was pointed at Francisco, who was currently trying not to choke on the "Black Devil."

"¿Quién ... ¿qué eres?" Francisco asked, his gaze trying to find the man's eyes through his hair, then being met with two crimson orbs staring back into him as if looking into his very soul.

"Ariel Espinosa se suicidó dos semanas después de enterarse de que estaba embarazada de su hijo ... y después la rechazó." Vincent said in a low tone, dark and accusing, just before pulling the trigger three times.

When the room went quiet, Vincent looked around some before moving to wipe some of the blood off of his face. "Juan Miguel and Rosita Espinosa send their regards." Vincent said to no one living, before moving back into the room he came from.

Strapping on his holster, Vincent sheathed Cerberus along his back, before reaching for his coat. As the floor length crimson fabric hit the back of his heels, Vincent moved back out of the bar, to see two locals with wide eyes surveying the scene.

"Estamos cerrados." Vincent said simply, shooting them both looks that brooked no argument as they hurried outside. Sighing softly, Vincent moved behind the bar and grabbed a few bottles of various liquors.

"It always comes back to fire…" Vincent muttered as he poured the bottles over various objects, including the dead bodies, before tossing the bottles away and hearing the predicted sound of broken glass.

He headed for the door, reaching for Cerberus one more time and shooting out two light fixtures behind him, keeping his eyes ahead. The fixtures sparked, igniting the alcoholic content of the liquor and redecorating the tavern in flame.

As he headed off into the night, Vincent holstered Cerberus one more time before heading into the shadows. Coming out of them was a winged figure bathed in only moonlight as he rocketed up into the sky, before turning west.

It was time to come home.


End file.
